Hey all! Here's the next chapter! I hope you're liking the story so far and please review! I know this chapter is really short, but I didn't have as much planned for this chapter as I thought I did. The next one will be longer, I promise! And it won't take me nearly as long to post it, either... *sheepish face here*
By the way, sammynanci is translating my stories into spanish so if you know anyone or would prefer to read them in spanish, feel free to go to her profile and find them there (they will be there eventually, so patience may be required!). Thanks so much for reading!
The sharp crack of a gun going off would have startled any normal human being.
Lucky for Sam, he wasn't normal.
He dropped to one knee, twisting to face the surprise shooter. He tried to reach out with his mind, to stop the bullet before it reached him, but he knew within seconds that he had failed, that his mind was not responding to the call.
The bullet impacted the tree beside him, missing him by inches.
A loud sigh announced his big brother's aggravation. "I give you credit for your fast reflexes, Sam, but dodging the bullet isn't the point of this exercise. You should be glad we're using blanks." Dean sighed. I should be glad we're using blanks.
Sam rose, kicking at the leaves on the ground in irritation. "I don't know how, Dean. My mind just does it, I don't know how to control it. We've been at this for hours, days. Nothing I try works."
"Maybe you're doing it wrong."
"And how do you suggest I do it right?"
"Maybe you're thinking about it wrong. Try reaching out in a different way."
"What? What the heck does that mean?"
"Actually, Sam, your brother has a point."
The brothers froze, turning to look at the suddenly present angel standing nearby.
He looked amused by their fighting, an eyebrow raised. "When you reach out for the bullet, you think of it as physically stopping the bullet. Your focus is on the bullet. What would probably help is if you pictured an actual force, maybe even an actual hand, reaching out and grabbing the bullet. Don't focus on the bullet, focus on the force you are using to stop the bullet. That is probably what is stopping you from succeeding."
Intrigued, Sam turned to face Dean, who gave him a questioning glance. Upon his nod, Dean brought the gun up to aim at his baby brother and fired.
Sam reached out with his mind once more, trying to do as Castiel said. He hadn't even realized he had closed his eyes until he heard Dean's gasp. He opened his eyes to see the blank hovering inches from his chest. It fell to the ground as excitement and disbelief flooded his mind.
"I did it. Holy crap. I actually did it."
...
"Alright, Sam. Try again."
Sam grumbled, but looked over at the pile of rocks he had collected beside him. Doing again as Castiel had told him, he focused on grabbing the rock, on the force he would use to grab the rock. It came almost naturally to him now that they had been practicing so long.
The rock lifted, but a little warning sound in a distant corner of Sam's mind had his focus going elsewhere, his mind acting before most of him had any idea what was happening. The rock Dean had thrown at him hovered inches from his face.
"DEAN!"
"Oh, come on, Sam. Chill, dude! Just a little bit of fun..."
"You could have knocked my head right off my shoulders that not a pebble, it's a rock!"
"Be a good little Jedi and start stacking your rocks again, Luke."
"Star Wars? Seriously?"
"Don't make me go all Yoda on your butt, Sammy."
"Shut up, Dean, before you embarrass yourself any further."
...
"Boys! It's time for dinner! Get yer lazy butts in here!"
Dean looked up at Bobby's shout, motioning to Sam with one arm. "Come on, Sammy, let's go eat. I'm starved! We've been at this all day."
"I think I'm finally starting to get the hang of this, Dean. I mean, I've stopped the blank almost every time, I can control things, throw things." Sam shot his brother at dirty look. "I even stopped the rock you threw at me and that was just instinct, considering I didn't know you were going to throw one."
"Ah, come on, Sam, be a good sport. We all know a good knock in the head is good for you once in a while. Your freakishly big brain might get content if I don't do something unexpected every once in a while."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever allows you to sleep at night, Dean."
...
Three weeks later, Dean was walking down the stairs early in the morning, thinking only of getting to his coffee before another day of practice (and before Sam did). Now that Sam was excelling at using his funky mojo (as Dean had taken to calling it), Dean spent a good portion of the day practicing his own skills, though granted they were a little more...normal than Sam's were. He wouldn't go so far as to call himself rusty, but he knew that it had done him good to get out and practice again.
As Dean entered the kitchen, a swelling feeling of triumph had him releasing a small, very quiet, "Ha!" under his breath. He had beat Sam to the kitchen and, thus, got the first, best tasting, coffee. He strode forward, already feeling more awake than he had.
That's when he felt his feet lift up off the floor. "Hey!"
Sam's laugh echoed through the kitchen. "Too slow."
"You're cheating! I was totally here first! Put me down!" Dean growled, feeling his stomach doing flip flops at the height Sam had raised him to. He was high enough up that Sam, his freakishly tall baby brother, could walk underneath him towards the coffee cup. He picked it up, eyeing Dean as he inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of coffee that permeated the kitchen.
"#$%$, put me down! THAT IS SO MINE!"
Sam rolled his eyes, but set Dean back down on the floor. A twinkle of amusement sparked in his eyes, reminding Dean strangely of their dad, long before he had become the hard soldier he was today, when he had a lot of reasons to laugh, to tease.
Dean hoped dearly that Sam never lost that, like his dad had.
To Dean's surprise, Sam suddenly shoved the coffee cup in his hand. A patient, brotherly affection was almost hidden in his gaze as he grinned, "Just wanted to show you I could get there first, Dean."
Dean felt strangely touched by that, as he sipped his warm coffee.
...
"It's time, Dean. I'm comfortable with my abilities, can use them fairly easily. We need to start hunting again."
Dean nodded, memories of the last few weeks flashing through his mind. His brother's powers were frightening, almost awe-inspiring to him (though that was nothing he would ever actually say out loud). He knew Sam was ready. It was time for a test drive.
"Let's hit the road then."